


Drive to Desperation

by Children_of_the_Shadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, RLSB - Freeform, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Children_of_the_Shadows/pseuds/Children_of_the_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War on the Wizarding World is escalating and things are quickly spiraling out of control. When a series of murders start popping up, Sirius struggles to protect the people he loves, especially Remus. All he wants, is things to go back to normal again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crippled

* * *

 

" _Tick tock.' The voice jeers. 'Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock! Which will it be? Which will it be? You have ten more seconds to guess before I take away that chance and Avada Kedavra you to hell.'_

_Scabior stares at the two vials in front of him, hands shaking and his nervous feet beating a staccato rhythm into the floor. He glances towards the door, praying for someone (anyone) to barge in; anyone to distract this lunatic enough for him to escape. He is trapped: the tip of the man's wand digging into his jugular, not bothering to ease the pressure or the stray sparks that licked his skin. If Scabior makes the wrong decision, a wand bruise will be the least of his concerns._

_If he is to be honest with himself, the wand at his throat looks ever bit capable of finishing him no matter the decision he makes. It looks lethal: obsidian as its intent with intricate silver patterns carved into the handle. There are no fingerprints or abrasions that come from years of use; this wand was bought for the sole purpose to kill. It is brand new._

' _Tick tock, Scabior. Six seconds. Which will it be? The decision isn't so hard. If you choose right, one vial will keep you alive for the rest of your miserable life. I believe in fair chances, even for scum like you, so choose, choose, **choose** …'_

_Scabior feels tears of desperation sting his eyes as his mind wracks desperately to find differences between the two vials; anything that could be used as a clue. 'Why are you doing this?' he sobbed. He doesn't understand how things have spiraled to this, when only minutes ago he was sitting back in his new loveseat – wine in hand and waiting for his latest fuck whore to Floo through._

_The laughter that follows his question is harsh and cruel, reflecting clearly the insanity that shines in the man's eyes. 'If you survive, I will tell you why, though the reason should be as obvious as that Mark on your arm.' His eyes map the tattoo on his forearm with disgust, and he pushes the tip of his wand further into Scabior's neck. 'Three seconds, Scabior. Tick tock, tick tock.'_

_Scabior slowly reaches for the vial on the right, the liquid sloshing erratically as his fingers tremble. The droplets that fall on his skin burn like fire and he immediately lets it go. His yellowed teeth spread to a slow smile as he realises that he's finally managed to outwit the monster that stood before him. He grabs the one of the left and quickly downs it, just as he hears the final countdown to one. He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when the man clucks his tongue and removes his wand tip from Scabior's neck._

' _Pity you didn't choose the second,' the man tuts, 'your death would have come much quicker.'_

' _Wha-' Scabior is just about to ask when he feels a sudden pain shoot through his spine. He cries out, doubling over. The man comes closer and Scabior can now see his own pained reflection on the surface of his killer's shoes. He had been so sure; so very, very sure that he'd chosen right. Where had he gone wrong?_

_He doesn't want to die._

_He forces himself to sit up, making one last vain attempt to cause damage. His knees rattle against his will and they give up entirely, when Scabior's eyes rise to meet the face of perpetrator, now unmasked. 'Y-You…' his mouth fills up with blood and he feels himself falling off the sofa, his bones crunching under his weight. He tries to scream but all that comes out are violent gargles that choke him. His fingers dig into the carpet, scrabbling for hold as he tries desperately to breathe. He regrets it. In that last moment, he regrets everything he's done to put himself in the mercy of this mad man. He should have known better._

_**Please,**  he wants to beg,  **please,** **please,** **please** **…** **I** **'** **m** **sorry.**_

' _Did you really think I'd spare you? Have your sick little band of **Death** **Eaters**  ever spared anyone? You laugh at suffering, don't you?' A mad laugh breaks out in demonstration, seemingly echoing in Scabior's ears, mocking him. 'Ridicule your victims till every bit of laughter for the rest of their miserable lives sounds like a threat.' Another cruel laugh as the footsteps slowly started to move towards the door. 'They were  **both** poison, you miserable little fuck.'_

* * *

' _We find ourselves terrorised by You Know Who's threat. We have tried to negotiate. We have tried to seek peace. But the brick wall of futility has landed heavy on the Wizarding nation. The safety of our people has been compromised and the Ministry is fighting to rightfully return it. As of today, I, Kieron Bagsby, order a strict curfew for all wizarding civilians. Shops will close by six in the evening and all civilians are expected to return home by seven. Anyone found outside the curfew will be penalised for compromising his or her own safety. All wizards and witches are recommended basic security and identification spells on both residences and other institutions. In this grave time, we ask for your full cooperation, bravery, and belief in the Ministry of Magic. Peace shall be restored.'_

Sirius turned off the radio as the announcement ended and the station resumed back to its program. Even the music was becoming sparse these days; the same track repeating again and again for months on an end.

He turned towards Remus, pretending not to notice the tremble of his hands within Sirius's. Remus's fingers felt impossibly frail, thick green veins running across his arms like gnarled roots of aged trees. Sirius's thumb traced them gingerly, his fingers feeling clumsy and large against Remus's. _Too_ _thin._

'Breakfast is getting cold,' he said with a weak smile, his eyes darting towards the plate of soggy toast and eggs. Just one plate – that's all they needed these days. 'My cooking's barely edible to start with.' He chuckled humourlessly and reached for the fork again when he felt a tug on his hand from Remus.

'Padfoot, I'm afraid,' Remus whispered, looking up at Sirius, his amber eyes reflecting the turmoil of emotions that he was probably feeling.

Sirius sighed, shuffling his eggs along the plate. 'I won't let anything happen to you, Moony, I promise.'  _Never_ _again._ _Not_ _even_ _if_ _I_ _have_ _to_ _put_ _my_ _life_ _on the_ _line._ 'I'm here, always.'

Remus shook his head. 'There's more at stake than my own life now. Things aren't getting any easier and…' He bit his lip hesitantly, '…and I can't do anything to help. What use am I if I can't even protect the people I love; if I can't protect  _you?_ _'_ He let his head fall forward to Sirius's shoulder, letting out a soft noise of content when Sirius's hand reached up to stroke his hair.

'This isn't forever, Moony,' Sirius assured, though as he watched the tremble of Remus's body and the awkward slump of his legs, he wasn't quite sure himself. 'We'll get through this.' He kissed the top of Remus's head and then pushed him upright. 'Now, eat up before these eggs become even more disgusting.' He returned the shaky smile Remus shot him and picked up his fork.

But it seemed breakfast was never part of Sirius's fate this morning as the fireplace roared loudly, spitting out sparks of green flame. There was a cloud of soot and smoke and James, looking every bit like a pub magician, tumbled out of it with flourish. However, his characteristic grin was missing as his eyes surveyed Remus first, then Sirius. 'There's been another one,' he informed them gravely. 'Possible suicide case. However, I use the word suicide very, very lightly.' He swallowed heavily and motioned Sirius to get up. 'Moody's got us on call, so you'd better get ready. We'll catch the scene before they try to cover it up with weak excuses.' When Sirius cast a hesitant glance towards Remus, James assured, 'I've got him. Go on.'

Sirius nodded, getting up and walking towards the bedroom. They watched as the door closed with a soft click and the sounds of running water filled the silence. Remus was looking at his and Sirius's abandoned plate with something akin to distaste. James had a feeling Remus was partially glad he didn't have to eat Sirius's weak attempts at cooking. Lily would have to send them food more often.

'What do you think happened?' Remus asked quietly, shuffling his legs slowly to the front.

James waited out of respect for Remus's pride, until the werewolf extended a hand for him to come. Carefully, he swung Remus's left hand over his shoulder and pulled him up. If it had been left to James, he would have simply volunteered to carry his friend to the living room couch. Remus's entire weight fell upon James's side like a dead body and his legs moved like a rusty wheel. It was simply painful to watch.

'Forced suicide,' James answered after a bit of thought. 'We've dealt with enough suicide cases to know the signs to look for. This guy was too complacent with his life to attempt anything of the sort. Too much of a coward, too.'

'This is the second identified Death Eater, isn't it? Do you reckon it might be You Know Who?' Remus asked. The name seemed foreign on his lips since only months ago Dumbledore had claimed that, ' _Fear_ _of_ _a_ _name_ _only_ _increased_ _fear_ _of_ _the_ _thing_ _itself_ '. But the hateful name had a trigger now; they found you if you uttered it.

James shook his head. He slowly unwound Remus's arms from around his shoulder and helped him fall back into the couch. The pillows flopped under the sudden weight. 'Why kill one of his own: an integral part no less?'

'Perhaps he was trying to get out? Like…' Remus lowered his voice, 'Regulus?'

James was just about to tell Remus how thin the possibilities of that were when Sirius walked out of his room. He was still trying to put on his shoes as he hobbled towards them, but it was enough to close the conversation about Regulus. It was still a sensitive topic for the former Black heir and no matter how much Sirius denied it and called Regulus an idiot, both James and Remus knew that Sirius was suffering terribly at his brother's loss. Remus and James exchanged a look among themselves that promised to continue the conversation at a later date.

'If you need anything, you'll let me know, won't you?' Sirius asked, once he'd done up his boots. He looked up at Remus with worry in his eyes and then emptied a pocket full of sweets onto Remus's lap. 'Eat,' he said simply and James couldn't help but let out an amused laugh at the slight gleam in Remus's eyes. Some things never changed. 'And, keep your wand with you.' Sirius clenched the wand in his hand tightly before handing it over to Remus. 'Only necessary magic, all right?'

Remus nodded smiling. 'You worry too much,' he replied, holding the wand experimentally in his hand. It was very different from Remus's old wand, which had been red instead of black – something the Marauders had always made fun of in school and successfully nicknamed as The Scarlet Woman. 'I'll be fine, I promise,' he leaned up to press a hand against Sirius's cheek, his movements agonisingly slow.

Again, James was hit by how much things had changed. Before this whole debacle, it had always been Sirius complaining that Remus worried too much. James hated this; hated how things had changed and how much his friends were suffering as a consequence. He looked away, feeling like a stranger in his own friend's house. 'Padfoot, we need to go.'

'Yeah, sorry,' Sirius muttered distractedly. He kissed Remus lightly on the forehead before quickly following James to the Floo. James heard Remus's gentle, 'stay safe' as he was engulfed by bright green flames and subjected to borderline nauseous spinning. He tumbled into the crime scene meeting point – an isolated area set up behind the house to manage the inflow and outflow of Ministry officials. James brushed off the soot from his clothes and straightened up to look back at Sirius, surprised when he found Sirius's back towards him as he surreptitiously tried to wipe his eyes.

'All right, mate?' James asked, placing a hesitant hand on Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius nodded, turning and smiling. 'Soot in my eyes, I suppose,' the crack in his voice disproved his theory.

'Moony still hasn't told you what happened?'

Sirius shook his head. 'He doesn't need to. He talks in his bloody sleep, screams sometimes, and it's like I'm living through everything they did to him, Prongs. It's…if I ever find out who is responsible for this, I'll…' His fists clenched tightly on his sides, jaw clenching and unclenching in suppressed anger.

James hummed, slowly starting to walk towards the crime site. He felt the beginnings of guilt surface within him again. He's beaten himself about it a million times – his inability to save one of his best friends or even realise that it wasn't at all normal to be late from a mission. Remus had dismissed his concerns and insecurities time and time again, but like Sirius, he couldn't help but dwell on the 'what ifs'. 'He isn't getting any better, is he?' he asked softly, not quite looking at Sirius. They were already late, it seemed, as he saw Moody waving violently and presumably screaming from a distance. Even in mittens and a bulky coat, Moody looked menacing.

Sirius started to walk faster. 'Not by much, but I can tell he's getting frustrated. He hates it when I try to help, but what am I supposed to do when every time I let him walk on his own, he falls? He can't even feed himself without his hands shaking like a leaf. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just sit back and watch?'

James wasn't sure what to say in reassurance. They walked in silence the rest of the way, snow crunching under their feet as they steeled themselves to be subjected to Moody's tirade of constant vigilance.

'About bloody time! We're going insane trying to keep away the press. No fucking names, I have to keep yelling.' Moody grouched when he was within hearing distance. 'Walk with me quickly while I fill you up on the details.' He didn't wait for either of them to follow, hobbling on his wooden leg at a pace that seemed extraordinary. 'Body was discovered this morning and identified as Damien Scabior. His last contact was a prostitute he'd employed the _services_ of, presumably around seven in the evening. She's the one who found him when she came back for her coat.' Moody pointed a gnarled figure towards a young woman under interrogation. She was crying quite hysterically while she presumably explained her version of the events. 'Very distraught,' Moody continued, 'which is more than I can say for Scabior's wife.'

James raised an eyebrow. 'She has an alibi?'

'She's been on holiday since last week, visiting family members in France. She didn't try to hide the fact that she despised him or that she couldn't care less if he was alive or dead. I expect she'll shed a few customary tears during the funeral.'

'And the poison?'

'Unidentifiable – both of them,' Moody growled in obvious annoyance. 'We've sent them to the lab for a breakdown, but so far, we've got nothing. It could have easily been crushed glass; preliminary body examination charms are giving us nothing.' Sirius and James looked at each other, a bad feeling progressively spreading within them. 'Prewett,' Moody beckoned Fabian Prewett, an officer from their forensics team.

The body has already been packed in a black bag and was being levitated to the apparition grounds. All four of them watched it leave, as if in a trance, before finally speaking.

'We're in a bad spot, Moody,' Prewett started, taking off his glasses and tucking it into his breast pocket. 'That body isn't going to last long enough for half the tests we have in mind. That poison – it's degenerative.' He looked at Sirius and James's confused faces and explained further, 'that body is being destroyed from within. Half his organs are already gone – eaten, destroyed, who the hell knows. I give it two hours for the bones, then muscle. Few of us think it wasn't poison at all but some kind of organism.'

Sirius frowned. 'Is that even possible?'

Fabian ran a hand through his hair. 'Times like these, Black, anything is possible.'

* * *

' _If the spell on my wand moves at point-o-o-three to the power of twelve meters per second, and you run for your life at two-point-five meters per second, how long till my spell hits you.'_

_Rookwood looks back, his eyes stinging from the salt of his sweat that runs waterfalls down his face. The man is twirling his wand lazily between his fingers, barely bothered at Augustus's frantic attempts to get away. His mask is nothing but a blank obsidian canvas but those eyes glitter with madness. On any other day, Rookwood would have considered them enchanting, beautiful even; but now he only sees malice and a sick sort of satisfaction. Rookwood wonders **why.** Why is he being chased? Why is this man so intent on killing him? Why is this happening to him when he has the Dark Lord's power on his side?_

' _Do you have an answer, Rookwood?'_

_Augustus did have an answer._

_The Rookwood estate is built over ten acres of land, complete with a well trimmed garden, a stable, and a house that stood two storeys tall and eighteen bedrooms wide. On wonderfully sunny days, Augustus drives his car impossibly slow so that he makes most of the weather. He moves through the front gates, a casual circle around the fountain and then towards the front of their house where he parks his car for their chauffeur to later take away. The whole ride takes him eight minutes and forty two seconds._

_Augustus has no chance in hell to get out of this alive._

' _Crucio!'_

_The pain that hits him is excruciating. He's read about it before of course in the same books that he's used to learn them - books with black covers and illustrated demons that talk of a pain that makes the strongest of men fall to their knees and beg. He is begging now, not on his knees but flat on his back, his body wracking with spasms as he cries for it to stop. The snow numbs his face and hands. His arms try to wind themselves around his body, protect him, but there is something forcing his hands to the sides of his head and it settles its weight on his knees. He's always found that the thrashing his own victims do under the Crucio is pointless, but as his pain peaks to pure agony under the forced stillness of his body, he understands._

_The relief that floods through him when it stops is immense. He pants, his mouth moving but unable to get beyond pathetic whimpers to actually form words. A wand digs into his throat and Augustus flinches as it crackles with residual magic. He wants to scream but knows it's pointless; knew from the very beginning by the calculated gaze that fixed upon him. The rest of his house is either asleep in a cocoon of silencing spells or dead. A sick, dirty part of him wishes them dead through the same pain he is feeling._

' _What do you want?' he rasps out finally, looking up at those horrible, horrible eyes. The man is sitting on top of him now, his heavy weight forcing Augustus's knees into an awkward angle. 'Anything you want to know about the Dark Lord, I can tell you. Just tell me what you want.' The laughter that follows echoes in Augustus's ears and makes him cringe from residual pain._

' _What will I do with your worthless information?' Augustus can hear the sneer in his voice. 'You think I don't already know the sprout of useless coordinates and plans that will come out of your mouth? You think I haven't heard it already?' His wand digs further into Augustus's neck, threatening to draw blood despite the blunt end. 'Don't you worry; I'll kill him too. In time, I'll kill you all.'_

_And then it starts again._

_Stops…just long enough to breathe. Augustus's body is burning despite the freezing weather._

' _If I needed to modify a spell to magnify the amount of pain it caused each time I cast it, what would I use, Augustus? Answer me, what would I use?'_

' _I-I don't know.'_

' _Crucio!'_

' _Relief,' The man leans down and whispers when he finally stops the forbidden spell. 'I would bring you relief so you knew exactly what it felt like before I took it from you again.'_

' _No,' Augustus pleads. 'No, no, no, please no-aaahhhh!' His own pained screams are echoing in his ears, making his head pound and his throat raw and scratchy. He can't breathe, can't move, and with every hit of the Cruciatus curse, he feels his nerves burn and disintegrate. The pauses between each forbidden curse gets longer and longer, but the relief he feels from it shortens. Dread fills him as the tick tock of his wristwatch reverberates in his ears. He is counting down the precious few seconds he has before it will strike again and strip him of his last bit of sanity. Augustus wishes for it to end. Whatever it is this man wants with him, Augustus wishes he would simply take it and be done with it. If it is his life that this man wants, then he can damn well take it. Augustus doesn't care anymore. Anything is be better than this – this **torture.**_

' _Are you wishing you could die?' The man asks, chuckling at the sight of Augustus lying in his urine stained trousers, humiliated. 'Do you wish it would simply all end?' Augustus does not humour him with a reply, mostly because he can't. He can't speak from the terror that is spreading through him and making his knees shake; can't protest because he fears that the wrong words will simply make it worse. 'Sometimes,' the man leans down to whisper, 'death is easier…'_

_This is it, Augustus realises. This is it. He is going to be free at last._

' _Pity I have no intention of making things easy for you.'_

* * *

'Stay there.'

Sirius raised a curious eyebrow but stayed poised at the Potter's front door. He shrugged when James peeked over his shoulder asking what the holdup was. 'Moony asked me to stay,' he replied, sticking his tongue out childishly when James muttered, ' _whipped_ _'_ _._ The two of them watched as Remus got off the couch, Sirius's heart beating abnormally fast as his lover's knees trembled. Lily stood not too far away, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes pinched together as she watched Remus with just as much concentration and worry. Just like Sirius, her eyes followed the line of Remus's hands as he hooked both arms into a pair of dark grey crutches and closed shaky fingers around the handle below.

Sirius's heart stopped the second Remus's right leg moved forward for his very first independent step since the incident. His breath caught in his throat and almost by instinct, he was moving towards the other man. Remus wouldn't make it; he was just going to hurt himself again and Sirius would be damned if he was going to just stand and watch.

'NO!' Remus cried, startling all three of them. 'No, Padfoot, I can do this. Lily and I have been practicing. I can do this.'

Sirius hesitated, still not entirely convinced until James put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'Let him,' James whispered, pulling him back slightly.

Sirius nodded hesitantly, watching as Remus moved forward step by step. He was shaky at first; each step he took was carefully measured and slow. Remus's face was screwed in concentration and every time his steps faltered or he looked like he was about to stumble, Sirius's muscles jumped, ready to come to his aid. He wanted to give Remus a chance; he wanted this so, so badly, but he couldn't help the nervous twitches or the frantic beating of his heart. He worried. He always worried nowadays because Remus just wasn't the same; he was weaker, quieter, lonelier…

'Come on, Moony,' Sirius urged when Remus had already made it midway. He could see Lily biting her nails nervously. 'Come on.' Remus had begun to gain a little bit of speed as his legs coordinated their movements with the crutches. 'You're almost there.' He hastily dropped his shoulder bag to the ground, unconcerned when a few of the documents fell out. Even James was cheering now as Sirius held his arms out. 'Come on.'

Remus grinned, hobbling the last few steps clumsily before falling against Sirius's chest. 'I did it,' he panted, 'I did it.'

Sirius hummed, wrapping his arms tightly around Remus and kissing the top of his head. 'You did it,' he whispered, finding an odd bubble of joy threatening to burst through him. It was hardly much, but after almost an entire month of watching Remus suffer with absolutely no progress, Sirius felt like he and his lover had just conquered the world. 'Good job, Moony. You did it.'

'I'll get you a change of shirt. You must be soaked,' James offered, moving past Sirius.

Sirius shook his head in reply. 'He's fine,' he assured, checking Remus's back and neck with a quick swipe of his hand. 'No sweat.' It did strike as Sirius as odd, given the way Remus was panting against him but he dismissed it. It was proof how much Remus had improved; when he'd first got out of the hospital, just a simple task as dressing himself or moving across the couch would have Remus unable to breathe and sweating profusely. This was good. This meant that Remus was getting better, and very soon, Remus would be Remus again and Sirius could lay in peace at night.

'Are you two lovebirds going to stand at our front door all day or actually going to come in for dinner.'

Sirius grinned at Lily and in a moment of elation, scooped Remus up in his arms and carried him inside. The crutches clattered to the side, joining Sirius's bag.

'I told you I could walk!' Remus protested, pulling at Sirius's shirt.

'I know you can,' Sirius laughed, kissing him swiftly on the lips to shut him up. 'This is me being romantic.'

Remus pouted. 'What about your things?' he asked, squinting over Sirius's shoulders. 'Lab Analysis,' he read slowly and frowned, 'is this about the murders? Have you found any leads yet?'

'Not yet,' James answered for Sirius, picking up the scattered papers and stuffing them back in the bag. 'Whoever this is knows what he's doing. Everything just leads to a dead end. The body we found is gone – destroyed while our lab team tried desperately to find some clues. The last one is the only one out of the three who survived but it's no mistake. He was kept alive by choice but he might as well be dead. He's gone completely off his rockers. Sirius-'

Sirius shot James a warning look. He was meant to keep these discussions vague, mentioning no names whatsoever. It wasn't a matter of trust; Sirius trusted both Remus and Lily with his life. But he had pointed out to James early on in the investigation that every piece of information they entrusted their partners with became a liability that their enemies could hold and torture out of them. A large part of Sirius's paranoia stemmed from recent events with Remus and he would be damned if one stupid slip up from James put his lover in danger again.

'I just wanted to double check,' Sirius finished for James, adjusting Remus in his arms so that his shoulder blocked Remus's view. He reminded himself to hide all investigation related papers in the future. Remus's curiosity was becoming a hazard. 'Make sure we've covered everything and that there aren't any loops that we've overlooked. Anything that can help identify the criminal really.'

'Fabian is thorough,' James argued for the fiftieth time that day making Sirius roll his eyes for the forty ninth.

'And I told you, I just want to make sure. Don't sour the mood, James,' Sirius plopped Remus onto one of the dining chairs causing him to cry in alarm. He chuckled as Remus punched him lightly in the arm. He pulled his own chair closer to Remus's, moving the large round dinner plate between them to make eating easier. Achievement or not, Remus's shaky hands weren't doing anyone any favours. His thighs bumped with Remus's playfully. 'We're having a celebratory dinner tonight, right, Lily?'

'I don't have much to offer then,' Lily joked, setting down a perfect roasted turkey on the table.

Sirius's stomach lurched loudly and he and Remus exchanged embarrassed laughs. Merlin knew it had been a while since they'd had a decent meal. Sirius's cooking was barely edible at the best of times. He attacked it with vigour, carving out a generous helping. He shot Remus a dark look when he tried to reach for his own fork. 'What time are the two of you setting off for Frank and Alice's wedding?' Sirius asked conversationally. 'Moony and I were thinking of going in a little late to avoid having to talk to Frank's mother.' Both he and Remus shuddered simultaneously at the mention of her.

'Enough to scare anybody's nightmares away, if you ask me,' Remus added, before Sirius shoved a forkful of vegetables in his mouth.

'Especially that vulture hat,' James affirmed, 'I swear, sometimes it feels like its bloody staring at you, alive as day.'

Lily laughed, 'don't be rude, lads. James mentioned he might have work that day.'

James nodded. 'Moody mentioned putting me on the night shift - something about scoping out the next target for our killings.'

Lily sighed, taking a sip of water. 'As if we didn't have enough problems with murder to start with. Now we have people on both sides butchering each other.'

'Honestly, I can't bring myself to feel sorry for them,' James commented, surprising Sirius. 'You can't deny that the Death Eaters had it coming. One of the reasons we can't narrow down a suspect list is because they had no lack of enemies. How many families have they murdered – wives, children, parents? Did they really think they were going to get away with it?'

Silence reigned over the dinner table as neither of them knew what to say. It was the first time James had voiced a personal opinion over the matter. Sirius scraped his fork across the plate awkwardly.

'That doesn't make this right, James,' Lily said softly. 'If we stoop to the same level as them, then there's nothing to set us apart.'

'I agree with Prongs,' Remus said quietly and for a few seconds, Sirius was sure it was just his imagination. 'They deserve this. They  _deserve_ everything that's coming to them. We've played fair long enough and it's not winning us any wars.'

'Moony…' Sirius started but wasn't quite sure what to say. He stared at his lover and saw someone he barely recognised. The old Remus would have never said such things; would never have allowed such thoughts to even cross his mind. This is what they had done to him. They had broken him, changed him, made him into the mess of a human being that sat before Sirius, spitting out praises of vengeance. Sirius had wanted to protect him. Ever since this war started, Sirius had only ever wanted to protect him.

His fists clenched as he watched Remus's eyes mist up.

Remus looked away, hiding behind his hand as his voice broke. 'Whoever this is, if they're only targeting Death Eaters, then I hope they never get caught. They're brave enough to do what needs to be done…'

* * *

Remus was sobbing.

Not knowingly. Remus never cried in front of others no matter how much Sirius sometimes wished he would.

Remus was sobbing in his sleep, mumbling incomprehensible pleas and groaning in pain. His body thrashed side to side, the covers pulling away from Sirius's body and tangling around his feet. His skin glistened with sweat, dripping down the side of his face and mingling with his tears.  _'_ _No._ _No,_ _no,_ _no!_ _'_

Sirius didn't wake him. He watched as he did every night for the past few months. He watched Remus suffer and cry and scream, until finally Sirius would have enough pieces to finally complete the puzzle of what happened with his lover. He felt horrible doing this; like he was betraying his own. He was Remus's other half, wasn't he? He was supposed to take care of him and save him from his nightmares, yet he was doing the exact opposite. He was letting Remus live through his nightmares every single night because Remus refused to talk to him otherwise. This was the only way he would ever know what happened. Some nights, if he were lucky, there would be names. Those were the nights Sirius himself would spend sleepless, trying to calm the fire that raged in his blood and suppress the tears that threatened to fall.

' _No,_ _please_ _don_ _'_ _t._ _Don_ _'_ _t_ _hurt_ _them_ _…_ _don_ _'_ _t_ _…_ _I_ _won_ _'_ _t_ _…_ _no_ _…'_

Sirius rubbed his face tiredly. His hands itched to touch his lover but he held them tightly against his chest.

' _I'm not….I'm not…stop…NO!'_

Remus shot off the bed and Sirius immediately reached for him, wrapping both arms around the Remus as the werewolf struggled wildly in his arms. 'No! I'm not a monster! I'm not a monster! I'm not!'

'Moony, it's okay. It's just a dream,' Sirius forcefully pulled Remus to his chest and locked his arms to his side. It was a necessary precaution; Sirius had learned this from multiple injuries on nights similar to this. 'Shh, love, it's okay. You're home now. You're home now…you're safe…'

'I'm not a monster,' Remus cried against his chest, fisting Sirius's shirt tightly.

'You're not a monster,' Sirius affirmed, stroking Remus's hair softly. It was damp with sweat, just like the rest of his body. 'You're Moony – the smartest Marauder and my sexy boyfriend.'

Remus let out a weak laugh.

'I love you,' Sirius continued, his words muffled into Remus's hair. He kissed Remus softly behind his ear. 'I love you. I love you so, so much. I love you.' He felt Remus burrow further into his neck and a tell tale wetness dampen his skin. Remus's legs wrapped around him, straddling his waist in an almost childlike embrace. 'I'm here now. I won't let you go, I promise. You're safe now…'

Remus said nothing for a while and Sirius was sure he'd fallen asleep again, probably exhausted from his ordeal. Inwardly, he worried how he would change Remus out of his soaked clothes without waking him. Sirius was just about to get up when Remus suddenly spoke, startling him: 'I want to go out for a walk…'

Sirius groaned, 'Moony, you've only just begun to-'

'I want to walk,' Remus repeated adamantly, 'How much ever I can go without falling over…' He pushed himself off Sirius, rolling over to the other side and reaching for the crutches that were now Remus's constant aid. Sirius had to admit that he was thankful to Lily for them; they had given Remus the independence he'd wanted for a very long time. It had also provided Sirius with renewed hope. Remus had only been using the crutches for a week and he was getting swifter, though his speed was achieved at great expense to Remus's well being. Remus pushed himself hard and Sirius lost count of the number of days he'd returned home to Remus collapsed on the bed from strain or a pulled muscle.

He watched as Remus hobbled to their cupboard, tossing two pairs of jeans, a well worn coat, and Sirius's leather jacket on the bed. Knowing a lost cause when faced with one, Sirius sighed heavily and got off the bed. 'Wait; let's get you cleaned up first. You'll catch a cold like that.' He ignored Remus's protests and summoned a dry towel from their bathroom. 'Sit,' he commanded, already starting on Remus's chest, wiping the back of his neck and his damp hair.

'Padfoot?'

'Hm?'

'You're not getting tired of me, are you?' Remus let out a small sound of protest, right eye closing as Sirius rubbed his face a little too hard. 'Having to put up with all this…' He dutifully lifted his legs so that Sirius could help him with his jeans. 'Having to take care of me all the time…' He held Sirius at the wrists, stopping him momentarily, 'You won't leave, will you?'

Sirius frowned; looking down at Remus's questioning amber eyes. They were wide with trepidation and Sirius would have laughed at the absurdity of the question had it been under any other circumstance. 'Don't be stupid, Moony,' he admonished, fingers combing through Remus's damp hair. It stuck to his skin and Sirius reckoned he was making a bigger mess of it than it already was. 'Remember James's stag night? Did you leave me to drown when I'd convinced myself that toilet water was actually champagne?'

'I wasn't going to kiss the mouth that had just drunk out of the toilet,' Remus laughed when Sirius placed a chaste kiss with said mouth. 'I took pictures of you trying to snog Elphias Dodge.'

Sirius shuddered. 'Don't remind me.' He held out his hand, helping Remus stand shakily. 'Look, Moony, when I promised forever, I meant it. I'm always going to be here for you, no matter what.' He squeezed Remus's fingers between his, smiling before handing back his crutches. 'Let's take Padfoot out for his walkies, shall we?'

The smile on Remus's face was worth it. It was worth the worry he put himself through as Remus tried to descend the stairs by himself; and worth all the patience his Animagus counterpart put in as Remus hobbled down the streets too slow for an energetic dog. Padfoot wagged his tail wildly, circling Remus enough times to make him dizzy and barking in encouragement every time Remus stopped for breath. He did tricks on his hind legs like a common dog, just to make Remus laugh and toss his favourite doggy treats as reward. Pride and fur were inversely proportional in ways that Sirius had none when he was a dog. Padfoot would chew on Remus's scarf, brush against his legs, and tug at his coat for an ear scratch, tongue lolling out in happiness when Remus obliged him every time. Sirius was as insatiable as a dog as he was human.

In that small moment, just a few blocks away from their tiny little apartment, Sirius felt free again. He felt like they were back in the old days when the two of them would go out for walks in the middle of the night just so that they could hold hands without anyone seeing. Remus would laugh every time Sirius changed into Padfoot to chase an alley cat or play in the fountain, and then complain about muddy footprints when they got home. Things had been good for them. Despite the war, they had been happy.

'Sirius,' Remus croaked out suddenly, stopping Padfoot mid play. 'Sirius, let's go home.'

Padfoot looked up at Remus curiously and he didn't miss the stench of fear that was now emanating from Remus's skin. He followed the direction of Remus's gaze but saw nothing but shadows and darkness. He blinked back at Remus, expecting some kind of explanation but Remus seemed unable to speak. His legs were starting to shake and Sirius transformed to human, just in time to catch him falling. The crutches clattered to the ground noisily and Sirius was sure he saw something in the shadows stop momentarily.

'Let's go home, Sirius,' Remus pleaded, leaning heavily against Sirius and clutching his jacket tightly. 'I don't want to walk anymore. Let's go home.' Remus's fearful eyes were looking past Sirius's shoulder towards the darkness. His hands were trembling more than ever, scrabbling to keep close to Sirius and move away at the same time. 'Please, Padfoot, please,' he whispered, tugging at Sirius's arm to distract him when Sirius tried to look back.

Sirius ignored him momentarily as he squinted behind them.  _There!_

Suddenly, Remus pushed him away, falling to the ground with a loud  _thump._ It was the sound of retching that pulled Sirius out of his stupor and he quickly kneeled beside Remus, holding his hair back as vomit splattered on the road.

'It's okay,' Sirius tried, rubbing Remus's back gently. 'It's okay…'

Remus shoved away Sirius's hand roughly. 'It's  _not_ okay.' He coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Sirius could see droplets of blood spreading across Remus's jeans where his knees had hit the pavement. 'It's not okay, Sirius!' Another cough and dry retch. 'I hate being like this! I hate it! I hate what they've done to me. I hate  _them!_ I hate them!' Remus pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. 'I'm tired, Sirius. I'm so tired of being afraid. I'd do anything to stop being so fucked up…. _anything._ _'_

Sirius was too stunned to reply with anything more than silence.

Remus inhaled shakily. 'I want to go home, please.'

* * *

 


	2. Sticks and Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The War on the Wizarding World is escalating and things are quickly spiraling out of control. When a series of murders start popping up, Sirius struggles to protect the people he loves, especially Remus. All he wants, is things to go back to normal again.

* * *

 

'I'll try to make it in time for the vows, but in case I don't, just apologise to Frank for me.' Sirius swept away a few of the papers littering his desk.

'Still trying to find loop holes?' James asked with a sigh.

'Criminals always leave evidence, we both know that,' Sirius explained away distractedly. As the number of murders grew to a total of five, so did Sirius's obsession with the investigation. It was unsettling and James was reminded of their days in Hogwarts when Sirius obsessed over prank plans, tweaking and bothering Remus to help them until all four of them were cleaning toilets as detention with a certain amount of pride over a successful prank. 'That's how they get caught – because they leave clues. There is no such thing as a perfect crime.'

'Moody's coming too, you know.'

Sirius snorted. 'Of course he is. He's fobbed off all his work on me, hasn't he? Plenty of spare time on his hands…'

'What about Moony? After his episode last week, do you really want to leave him alone?'

Sirius's face softened at the mention of Remus. 'He'll be fine.'

'How are the nightmares?' James asked, already reaching for the Floo pot. He sneezed a little when some of the powder went flying up his nose.

Sirius shrugged. 'Not much better. I'm thinking of buying some Dreamless Sleep Potion tonight. He isn't getting any rest this way...'

'Padfoot, have you considered a specialist maybe?' James hastened to explain when he saw the frown on Sirius's face. 'I'm just saying...that if Moony won't talk to any of us about what happened then maybe...' He trailed off slowly. 'Lily has a friend who keeps things strictly confidential and-'

'No,' Sirius's tone allowed no arguments.

'No?'

'No,' Sirius affirmed with a hard look. 'I can take care of him. I don't need some crackpot-'

'Sirius, I'm not questioning your ability to care for Remus. I'm sure you're-'

'I'm the one who loves him!' Sirius shouted suddenly, banging his fists hard on the table. 'I'm the one who feeds him and takes care of him, and pulls him through each one of his nightmares! I'm the one who goes through ridiculous lengths just to make sures he's safe! If there's anyone he should talk to, it's me! If there's anyone he needs to seek solace and protection in, it's me!'

'Yes, but maybe at this stage, you aren't enough for him!' James knew it was the wrong thing to say the minute the words had left his mouth. The crushed look on Sirius's face only alleviated his guilt, so he looked away. 'I'm sorry; that was completely out of line. I should just go...' He hurriedly threw the Floo powder into the fire, waiting for the flames to turn completely green, before stepping into them.

'I would do anything for him, you know,' he heard Sirius tell him before leaving, but there was nothing he could say in reply that wouldn't sour the situation. So he simply called out _'The_ _Kennel'_ before disappearing into the flames.

'Moony?' James frowned, brushing the soot off his robes as he stepped out of the fireplace. He cast a shoddy cleaning spell, hoping Lily wouldn't notice the stain at his hip. She had specifically picked out these robes for the occasion. 'Moony, you asleep, mate? Moony?'

Worry slowly creeped up James's spine as no one answered. As far as he knew, Remus didn't go anywhere without Sirius. Not from the lack of trying, but Sirius had convinced Remus, with methods he had refused to tell James, not to. 'Moony? Remus?' Then again, Remus was a Marauder; what guarantee was there that he would actually follow the rules?

Still, James hurried, checking the kitchen and balcony before heading towards The master bedroom. 'Remus, are you-' He felt his words die in his throat as he saw Remus walking out of the bathroom, sans limp. The crutches were discarded on the floor and Remus's knees showed no signs of giving away or shaking without them. 'What the hell?'

It was James's shocked exclamation that caught Remus's attention. 'James...' he croaked, eyes wide and hands frozen from when he was towelling his hair. 'You...what are you...' He swallowed, trembling hands falling to his sides in admittance to his guilt. He didn't meet James's eyes as he sat down on the bed gingerly. 'Please don't tell Sirius,' he whispered softly, wrapping his arms around his body.

James finally found his voice, 'Why?' The question came off harsher than he'd intended.

'I-'

'Tell me why?' James screamed.

'I was scared!' Remus yelled back. 'I was scared he'd leave! Not me...' He hesitated, before finally admitting to the truth. 'Have you noticed how he hasn't gone on a single mission for the Order since I got hurt?'

James couldn't believe his ears. 'So what? You were planning to keep him locked in here so that he could tend to your needs at all times? What about the War? Are you really going to be that selfish?'

'Fuck you!' Remus's face contorted with fury. 'Do you even know what they do to you? Do you know what it's like to relive all your worst fears and pray every day for your death? I'll die before I have Sirius go through what I did. These Order missions are unstable at best. If he's on the field during a fight I can protect him, but what if they take him from me? A single flaw in the mission and he's done for!'

'We knew the risks when we first started out,' James argued stubbornly. 'We knew what we were getting into.'

'No, that's not true.' Remus shook his head. His fists clenched into the bed covers. 'I was willing to sacrifice my life, but never Sirius's.' He looked at James with a desperate plea in his eyes. 'I can't live without him, Prongs.'

'You can't fake this forever, Remus.'

'Please don't tell him...'

'You're going to have to come out with it sometime...'

Remus buried his fingers into his hair. 'Please don't tell him...'

'He worries for you constantly,' James tried, though he could already feel himself caving to Remus's ludicrous request. What more was he hiding? Was this Remus's only lie?

'He'll hate me if he finds out.'

'He loves you.'

'Even if the impossible happens and he doesn't hate me, he'll want to...' Remus trailed off and James could tell that whatever it was Remus wanted to say, it was costing him a lot. 'I'm not ready...I can't...and then he'll know...he'll know and then he  _will_ leave me.'

James should have pried. He should have prodded and poked until Remus caved in and told him what it was that he wasn't ready for. But a part of him took pity on his best friend. Perhaps whatever secret Remus was having a hard time admitting to was meant to be kept hidden. Also, James realised, that he felt much the same towards Lily. It was possible, wasn't it, to fall so deep into a relationship that your love starts to resemble a type of irrational madness.

'Two weeks,' James conceded finally. 'After that I'll tell him myself.'

* * *

_'M-O-N-S-T-E-R.'_

_The knife is wiped on Antonin's skin, leaving a bright red smear across his thigh. Not that it matters. His chest is already stained red from the myriad of words carved into his body – filth, mongrel, half blood, liar, murderer…_

_'Sticks and stone may break you bones, but words, Dolohov, words can be such a bitch, can't it?'_

_He is carving again, the cold tip of the blade dragging deep into his flesh. His eyes shut so tight that they hurt to a point where it feels like he's pushing his eyes all the way back into his skull. His screams are muffled into his own dirty socks; stuffed into his mouth, just little shy of choking. The stench of his own sweat and the tang of blood overwhelm his senses, and he is sure that he has forcefully swallowed his own vomit many times now._

_The pain is so unbearably acute that he can **feel** every word that is being written into his skin. He can feel the intensity and hatred behind each etching, even the intention to leave a scar if not to kill. His skin burns as he spells every word in his head, pure agony piercing through his very being._

_B._

_E._

_A._

_S._

_T._

_Antonin is not stupid. He knows who this is despite the obsidian mask that blends so well into the darkness. The laughter is hollow and the voice is made purposefully deep, but Antonin still knows. Word has already spread through the Death Eater community of the mystery killer who has taken it upon himself to 'free' the Wizarding World. The Ministry tries hard to hide the names and details of those murdered, but people don't particularly care. The word 'Death Eater' is enough. Bloody mudbloods. They are all cheering because the fools think that this person is leading to the downfall of the Dark Lord's regime. Antonin knows better. He knows those who are dead personally and he knows that the murders have nothing to do with the Dark Lord and everything to do with blood thirsty revenge. Antonin noticed the pattern weeks ago._

_He had noticed and ignored it because he thought his fort was impenetrable. He had told no one, just like the others, because it would mean admitting to acting outside the Dark Lord's orders. The Dark Lord doesn't take kindly to disobedience. Though, Antonin thinks, this is the right way to rule. The Wizarding World is full of mudbloods and filth who need to be taught a lesson. The Dark Lord has promised their annihilation, just as he has promised safety to the Death Eaters from this new murderer._

_They should have never tried to take things into their own hands. They had been blinded by the glory that was sure to follow if they had their victim cracked. The Order has been a menace to the Dark Lord's rightful ways since the very beginning – the plan had been perfect. They had toyed with him to the point of tears. Antonin is sure that if the dirty werewolf hadn't escaped, he would have caved in another twenty four hours. The beast had been balefully resistant and if Antonin was to be honest, he had enjoyed every moment of it. He had gone beyond protocol (out of control) because it had been **fun.** They had all had. It had given them a sense of power beyond cognition._

_'Do you feel the humiliation, Dolohov? The slow realisation that maybe, maybe every single one of these words are true? Why else would everyone say it? Why? Why? Why?' Cruel laughter. Dolohov thinks that he should have been a Death Eater - the fit is perfect. Pity. 'But then again, in your case, it is true, isn't it, you dirty motherfucker?'_

_Antonin knows who's next – the last one in line to this chain of murders. And he laughs. He laughs because out of all them, that bloody bastard is the one who deserves this the most. The **real** monster among them – the one that had gone beyond the point of no return. He laughs because he hates that piece of shit just as much as the rest of the world. Laughs because the motherfucker finally has it coming for him. Laughs at the very thought of what is going to happen to him, because that fucker's death will not be easy. Oh no, his death will definitely not be easy. So despite the mad agony that screams through his veins and shatters his bones; the vomit that leaks from the side of his mouth and the blood that covers every inch of his skin, he laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, even when he is slapped so hard that his nose breaks and his skull cracks against the hard marble floor._

_'Shut the fuck up.'_

_The sock is pushed farther intro Antonin's throat and he feels fresh tears pool in his eyes as his windpipe narrows further. His face is forced to the front, one hand holding him tightly by the neck as the other presses the tip of the knife to his forehead. Blood drips into his eyes and mouth as his fate is sealed with one final word:_

_J-U-S-T-I-C-E._

* * *

James stared at the photographs of Antonin Dolohov in front of him.  _No,_ he thought,  _no,_ _no,_ _no,_ _Merlin,_ _please_ _no._ _He_ _wouldn_ _'_ _t._

He looked again, willing for the evidence to change, for the words to morph into anything else. But James knew better. Even if the word 'werewolf' had been carefully avoided, James had lived with Remus long enough to know his deepest insecurities. He knew the words that Remus both hated and grown to accept over time. The very same words were now glaring back at him, etched in blood. Was the handwriting the same?

James felt sick.

He should have known. He should have known the entire time. Why else would Remus refuse to share details of his capture and subsequent torture? Why else would he fake disability for such an extended period of time? Remus had a perfect alibi, but he also had a motive. Sirius had mentioned recurring nightmares; weren't the memories alone enough to drive someone mad? Would madness account for the line of murders? Did the fact that he'd stopped faking mean that the murders ended with Dolohov?

_What now?_

There was no way Remus would be let off easy, dark hero or not. The Ministry would not see him like the rest of the Wizarding World; he'd be branded as a stereotype – the dangerous werewolf.

_What now?_

James ran a hand through his hair. Was there any incriminating evidence left behind? How long till others figured it out? How long till Sirius figured it out?

'Fuck.  _What_ _now?_ '

* * *

Sirius smiled softly and brushed Remus's hair behind his ear.

'It's getting too long.' Remus frowned, pulling at a lock of hair to inspect it.

Sirius swatted Remus's hand away, replacing them with his own and letting soft brown locks slip between his fingers in a soothing motion. 'I like it this way. Don't you dare cut it.'

Remus laughed. 'You only like it because it makes me look like a rogue.'

'Psh,' Sirius grinned, ' _sexy_ rogue is the word.'

Remus burst out laughing and Sirius couldn't help but stare. It had been so long since he'd heard Remus laugh. He drank in every little nuance and crinkle in the corner of Remus's eyes; the slight crookedness of his teeth and the scar that stretched across his chin. It was the sweetest sound Sirius could imagine and it made him feel like things were finally right between them.

'What?' Remus asked when Sirius had been staring for too long. He touched his face insecurely, 'Is there something on my nose?'

Sirius smiled and shook his head. 'I'm just happy.' At Remus's quizzical expression, Sirius explained further, 'Did you see everyone's faces today in the Order meeting? They were bloody ecstatic to have you back. A lot of them had been worried;  _I_ _'_ _d_ been worried that you wouldn't come back…that you'd never get better. Molly even made fucking cake.'

'She only made it so that she could bribe me into babysitting her spawns from hell,' Remus grouched.

Sirius let out a bark of joyful laughter and pulled Remus into a hug. 'Well, I'm happy, too. Happy to just have you back again.' He felt Remus smile against him and in a moment of impulsiveness, Sirius drew Remus's face to his and kissed him hard.

'Is this okay?' Sirius asked unsurely when Remus made a surprised sound. 'Am I hurting you?'

'No,' Remus whispered, hand sliding up to the back of Sirius's neck and tangling in his hair. 'You never hurt me.'

It was all the permission Sirius needed to climb on top of Remus, straddling his hips as he kissed him fervently. He had missed this; missed it so, so much. The feel of Remus's tongue curling against his; their mouths moving with practiced ease - sucking, nibbling, pulling. Sirius had missed this easy intimacy between them and now, suddenly, after three long months of praying and trying his hardest to help his lover recover, Remus was back again. Sirius had been able to save him.

Sirius's hands travelled over Remus's clothed chest, brushing his nipples lightly before slipping under his t-shirt. His fingers ran over each rib, counting them down to Remus's belly button and then brushing over the sparse wiry curls that peeked just above the waistband of his trousers.

'I love you,' Sirius said softly, burying his nose into Remus's neck and breathing in his familiar scent. Remus let out a soft moan that went straight to Sirius's cock. 'Fuck, I love you.' Sirius didn't know how many times he said it, but in his head it repeated like a mantra again and again as he pushed down Remus's trousers, an urgency to be everywhere taking over him. The heady need to feel more, to touch overwhelmed his senses and he felt himself pushing further and further against Remus as if trying to mold their bodies together.

Sirius's hand wrapped around Remus's cock and he moved it from base to tip, twisting his wrist just at the end - the way he knew Remus liked it. Sure enough, a loud moan followed and Sirius swallowed it all by pressing his lips tightly against Remus's already bruised ones. His own cock throbbed insistently against Remus's thigh, screaming for attention as Sirius's trousers got too tight to be comfortable. Yet, when Remus's hands reached down to cup him, Sirius held him back, pinning both wrists just over Remus's head.

'Not yet,' he commanded, when Remus stiffened and tried to wriggle free.

He wanted to come inside Remus. He wanted to feel that tight wet heat around him; feel their bodies moving as one in a frantic dance; watch as Remus's face twisted in pleasure and his mouth dropped open as he came in quick spurts all over his own stomach.

'Padfoot, no...'

Sirius's hands slipped lower, past Remus's balls. 'Relax,' he whispered into Remus's ears in an attempt to soothe the sudden tightness in his muscles.

'Sirius, no...'

'Relax, love.' He repeated, fingers circling Remus's opening and pushing lightly.

Suddenly, Sirius found himself on the floor. He had barely registered the push but as he looked up with shocked eyes, he saw Remus panting with his arms out. There was a kind of fear in his eyes that shook Sirius to the core. And right then, Sirius  _knew_  why. He knew without Remus having to tell him anything. He knew even before Remus pulled the sheets over his naked body, drawing his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms protectively around his chest. He knew even before Remus said the word, sorry. He knew the word flashing in Remus's eyes without having a word said in between:  _rape._

'No.' Sirius shook his head disbelievingly as the realisation of what they'd taken from him began to sink in. 'No, no, no, NO!' Not this. Not this.

'I'm sorry,' Remus apologised again, 'I thought I could. I thought I'd gotten over it but I...when you held me down...all I could see was his face just like when I was five and then again when...I froze and-' He buried his face into his arms, 'He wouldn't stop...no matter how much I asked, he just…' His voice cracked. 'And they were all laughing, jeering…I-' Not knowing what more to say, Remus whispered quietly, 'I'm sorry.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' Sirius screamed suddenly, banging his fist against the bed. 'Why didn't you tell me this before?' Those fuckers had already done enough, so why this? 'From the very beginning, you've refused to tell me anything! You won't give me their names; you won't tell me what happened or how - nothing!' Sorrow boiled into anger and then frothed over to the side as rage. A part of him just wanted to wake up; to wake up and realise all of this was a bad dream. 'How long did you plan on lying to me? Did you think you could keep this from me forever, Remus?' His hand tightened into fists and he punched the lamp on their bedside table. 'I drive myself insane worrying about you, but you don't give a fuck. I didn't even find out you were in the hospital until two days later, fucking inches away from death. No reasons, no explanations; just that a mission went wrong. Fuck!' Sirius paced restlessly. 'You know, you used to share everything with me, but ever since you came back it's all secrets with you! And now… _this!_ I feel like I can't even trust you anymore!' He rubbed his eyes roughly, and then making a final decision, began pulling out his clothes from the cupboard. He pulled the first pair of jeans and jumper he found.

'Where are you going?' Remus asked, flinching when Sirius slammed the cupboard door hard. 'Sirius, where are you going?' Panicked amber eyes looked up at him and had it been any other situation, had it been anything else but  _this,_ Sirius would have held him. But not now. Not for this. _This_ was unforgiveable.

'Out!' Sirius replied gruffly, pocketing his wand in his jeans.

'SIRIUS!'

* * *

James was still wide awake when the door bell rang at quarter to midnight. Lily had gone to bed early, exhausted from a rough day at work. She'd mentioned going to the doctors for the frequent nausea she was having but hadn't said anything after she'd returned. James had meant to ask her, but things had only gone downhill since he'd discovered Antonin Dolohov's body. Just like Sirius, James had become obsessed with the investigation, tearing through piles of evidential documents and photographs to find anything that may disprove his theory. A part of him still refused to believe it could be Remus – their gentle friend who had always tried so hard not to hurt anyone. Remus, who was quiet and calm and hid a brilliant mind for pranking behind an innocent exterior.

The door bell rang insistently and James hurried his steps, not wanting to wake Lily at this hour.

At the third bell, James wrenched the door open with every intention to tell off whoever was behind it but found the words die in his throat when he was brought face to face with Remus Lupin himself.

'Help me find him,' Remus swayed on his feet before falling into James's chest. His body was freezing cold, James noted, his nails and lips already showing tinges of blue. How long had he been out for in this weather? 'Prongs, help me find him. I need to apologise.'

James dragged Remus inside, kicking the door to close behind him. 'Find who, Moony?' He asked, already casting multiple warming charms on his friend. A small part of him couldn't help but think of all the murders and Remus's association to them, but he quickly pushed them to the back of his mind. 'Who are you looking for, Moony?'

'Sirius,' Remus replied, the sudden warmth now making him drowsy. His eyelids drooped when James pressed a hand to his forehead to check for a fever. 'He was so angry, James. So, so angry…' Remus slid sideways into the couch to rest his head against the cushions, body curling tightly to keep warm. 'I need to find him. He…' He fumbled in his pockets, movements uncoordinated, before James decided to relieve him of the trouble and help him out. 'He left his wand at home. It's dang…'

Remus trailed off, his body finally giving up to sleep as James stared at the wand in his hands. Maple Wood, ten inches, unicorn hair core; etched in Sirius's own elegant cursive:  _Property_ _of_ _Sirius_ _Black._

* * *

' _Frisky little animal, aren't you,' he spits blood onto the floor before wiping his mouth. 'Though I have to admit, I didn't expect this much from a fucking coward like you.'_

 _The_ _bastard_ _moves_ _his_ _wand_ _higher_ _and_ _Greyback_ _can_ _feel_ _every_ _inch_ _of_ _the_ _stake_ _moving_ _further_ _inside_ _of_ _him,_ _sliding_ _just_ _past_ _his_ _stomach._ _He_ _refuses_ _to_ _scream_ _however._ _Pain_ _like_ _this_ _is_ _nothing._ _Greyback_ _didn_ _'_ _t_ _become_ _the_ _most_ _dangerous_ _werewolf_ _in_ _the_ _Wizarding_ _World_ _by_ _squealing_ _every_ _time_ _he_ _was_ _faced_ _with_ _a_ _challenge._ _Already,_ _his_ _fingers_ _are_ _working_ _against_ _the_ _binds_ _on_ _his_ _hands._ _His_ _body_ _is_ _currently_ _under_ Petrificus Totalus;  _unmoving_ _except_ _for_ _his_ _eyes_.  _His_ _hands_ _move_ _out_ _of_ _sheer_   _will power_ _and_ _even_ _so,_ _the_ _movements_ _are_ _painfully_ _slow_ _and_ _erratic._ _Under_ _normal_ _circumstances,_ _Fenrir_ _would_ _have_ _simply_ _sliced_ _the_ _ropes_ _with_ _his_ _sharpened_ _nails,_ _but_ _the_ _bastard_ _has_ _already_ _pulled_ _them_ _out_ _from_ _the_ _very_ _root._ _His_ _teeth_ _have_ _also_ _been_ _broken_ _to_ _nothing_ _but_ _blunt_ _stubs;_ _some_ _knocked_ _out_ _and_ _staining_ _the_ _fur_ _carpet_ _underneath_ _his_ _feet._ _It_ _was_ _ironic_ _that_ _the_ _carpet_ _is_ _also_ _a_ _beast_ _he_ _'_ _d_ _once_ _killed_ _and_ _fed_ _on._

_It is Greyback's fault; he had underestimated the man. Had he known that this fight was one for revenge, he would have acted differently._

_Fenrir Greyback knows the power of revenge like a brother. It is like a black hole that threatens constantly to consume you. And should you willingly let it, it gives you a strength and determination that overrules all else. Fenrir knows because his whole life, he has acted on revenge and hatred alone. This very moment, he is suffering the slowest kind of death possible because of the revenge he had exacted on John Lupin twenty years ago. Yet, he doesn't regret it one fucking bit. He rejoices in it, crows at the pain he's caused; would do it all over again for that spark of pleasure he receives every time he hears little Remus Lupin cry._

_The stake is his chest now, scraping past his lungs. He can feel it slide perfectly inside him; every nerve inside his body screaming themselves numb. He still hasn't managed to untie the ropes._

' _Are those tears I see, Greyback?' The little fuck leered. If Greyback's mouth was working, he would have spat on the bastard's smug face. 'I'm going easy on you, see? Not hitting any vital organs. That little stake will come right out through that fucking gob of yours. Your arse might be a little sore, but it's quite brilliant otherwise, isn't it? You'll get to live through this pain for another six hours. Only six hours instead of an entire fucking lifetime.'_

_Greyback's eyes close when the pain becomes too unbearable. He blocks out the sounds of gleeful laughter because it will only fuel his anger more. Right now, if he keeps still enough, he will be alive long enough for one of his posse's to find him. Movement will only make this faster and Greyback is loathed to give the bastard any satisfaction over this petty game. When he gets out, he thinks, he will fuck little Lupin over to a point he can't stand. Greyback will break the little bitch; feed on his sweet, sweet flesh before killing him._

_When the sharp end of the stake finally pushes itself out of his mouth, Greyback's eyes roll to the back of his head. The remainder of his teeth is scraping against the wood, being pulled forcefully from the roots by the sliding movement. His tongue is already raw. The wand at his neck finally lowers, bringing relief to the skin on his neck which is now raw and swollen from the silver etchings decorated at the end of the wand. Greyback knows it is pure silver from the fact that it has caused this much damage without so much as touching him. Suddenly, it's tossed into the fireplace, burning to ashes even before it hits the bottom._

' _Remember me as the last face you saw before you die.' The obsidian mask is pulled away but Greyback doesn't bother looking. He already knows who it is. Black hair, grey eyes, and that look of arrogant pureblood supremacy - it is in carved into the faces of every Black member that ever existed. Even a blood traitor like Sirius Black._

* * *

When Sirius comes back home, James is waiting for him, sat quite comfortably on the couch and enjoying a cup of Remus's favourite tea. 'Trespassing is against the law, you know,' Sirius commented, toeing off his socks and shoes at the door.

James raised an eyebrow. 'Thought it would all right given that I brought your boyfriend home for you.' When Sirius frowned in confusion, he laughed bitterly. 'He was out in the snow frantically searching for you after you left, still in his pyjamas and a stupid little jumper. He was worrying himself sick because you didn't take your wand with you.'

'Fuck,' Sirius cursed and ran towards their bedroom, his bare feet slapping against the floor in urgency. 'Is he all right?'

'See, I don't think he had anything to worry about,' James continued as if not having heard Sirius at all. 'Because you  _did_ have a wand, didn't you? One that was practically untraceable…'

Sirius stopped, eyes narrowing as he looked back at his best friend. 'I don't know what you're talking about…'

'It's so weird,' James laughed bitterly, 'Only hours ago, I was so sure it was Remus. So, so sure; because everything seemed to point towards him. But I should have known better. Remus has never been good at brewing potions. We also found traces of silver on the necks of each victim, didn't we? Not that anyone paid attention to it because rich bastards like them always have expensive jewellery hanging from their necks. Some rich bastards also have it on their wands.'

Sirius shrugged, feeling oddly calm despite the situation. It was almost as if he was watching the entire exchange from outside his body. 'Like Moony said, I left mine at home.'

'See, I didn't think about any of these until Moony actually showed me your wand and I remembered how you never fully cross your T's. Like when you write "property" or "monster" or "filth".' If James was expecting any reaction from Sirius, he was sorely disappointed when all that met him was a neutral stare. 'And then I remembered fifth year and the Prank, and suddenly everything made sense. For years, I drove myself mad wondering why you would think sending Snape to the Shack was funny. And then it hit me; it was  _never_ a prank.'

 _Too_ _late,_ _Jamie-boy_ , Sirius thought with a smile.

'Snape was getting too nosy, threatening to expose Remus to everyone else and possibly get him expelled if not executed. Granted you didn't quite think the consequences through, but you had meant Snape to get killed, didn't you?'

'Have you already told him?' Sirius asked quietly, glancing towards their closed bedroom door. A slight fear started to creep up his spine at the thought of Remus leaving him.

James ignored his question. 'Why, Padfoot? Just tell me why you would do something so stupid?'

Sirius's grey eyes bore into James's hazel. 'They hurt him.'

James looked completely appalled at his reasoning and he was just about to start what was undoubtedly a tirade, when Sirius interrupted him, 'Remus will die without me.' His tone was stony as he turned back towards the door, hand already turning the handle. 'Remember that when you finally decide to hand me over.'

James scoffed. 'How many hours till Greyback dies?'

Sirius paused. 'Five hours.'

James looked somberly at his watch. 'Any traces?'

'Silver reaction on his neck. The wand's been destroyed.'

James nodded and Disapparated.

Sirius's body slumped against the door frame in relief. If James had decided to turn him over to the Ministry, there was very little he could have done. There was no way he would have hurt his best friend, no matter how far his desperation to be with Remus went. But Remus was safe now; protected. Sirius had gotten rid of all of Remus's nightmares permanently. He had made them pay with  _blood_.

'Sirius?' Remus mumbled sleepily when Sirius finally slipped into bed, tucking the covers tightly around their bodies. 'You're back?'

Sirius pressed his chest to Remus's back, wrapping his arms around his lover gently. 'Yeah, I'm back, love. Go to sleep…'

Remus's hands slipped over Sirius's arms, tracing the curve of each vein deftly. His voice was still hoarse from sleep as he spoke again, 'Are you still angry?'

'No,' Sirius sighed, 'I'm not angry, Moony. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You'd gone through something like that and I was just so mad at everything else; mad at the people who had done this to you. I just…'

'I was afraid you'd leave,' Remus admitted quietly. 'The reason I didn't tell you what happened was because I thought it would finally be too much. That you wouldn't want…wouldn't want someone like  _me_.' His hands wrapped around Sirius's possessively. 'You won't leave, will you? I promise…I promise to do _anything_. I'll try harder. I'll-'

Sirius covered Remus's mouth with his hand, effectively shushing him. 'We'll take it slow,' he promised. He let go of Remus's mouth and turned him so that they were lying face to face. 'I'll help you.' He kissed him gently on the lips. 'I won't ever leave. I won't ever let anything happen to you. There has never been a single moment of my life when I haven't wanted you.'

Love, Sirius reckoned, made you do crazy things. Crazy, mad things that Sirius would do all over again if it meant he could see Remus happy again. If things got messy after this, then Sirius was going to take down whoever he had to, to stay with him. Reflexively, his hold tightened around Remus. 'You don't have to be scared anymore.'

Remus's piercing amber eyes searched him silently, before he nodded and pressed his lips to Sirius's again. 'I'm not.' He smiled beatifically when the sound of drunk caroling wafted up to their little bedroom, one week too early to be joyous. It reminded Sirius that they still hadn't gotten a tree. With everything going as it were, Sirius had completely forgotten. 'We could go shopping tomorrow for the Potter's gifts…' Remus suggested quietly, his eyes reflecting the steady snowfall outside their window. 'What do you want for Christmas?'

Sirius smiled cheekily, opting for the age old cheesy answer that he knew would make Remus blush.  _'_ _You._ _'_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly disturbing, but I've always thought Sirius wasn't above murder when it came to his best friends. He was ready to kill Peter after all and well, what is so funny about sending Snape to the Willow? I still don't get it. Hence, this ridiculously dark, disturbing Christmas fic. Hope you guys liked it. By the way, the last murder scene with Greyback was inspired from a Wiki article called "Impalement". Don't ask me why I was reading it. Just for those who are curious.


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